You’ve Got Mail is my favorite movie of all time.  This is a quote from it.  Don’t judge me.

Also, don’t you think tulips are kind of boring?  And roses are smug bastards.

Sidenote: the background in these photos is our coffee table, which Billy decoupaged with a bunch of pages from an antique comic book about some kind of evil cat woman.  Cool, right?

CRAFTS!

I’m composing this blog post in an outgoing email on Microsoft Outlook in order to appear to be working. Yes, dear readers, I have a new job, I’m not a receptionist anymore, but I will not desert you. I just have to be less flagrant now. Because everybody who goes to the bathroom can see my computer screen and I fear they will judge me if they see me blogging. Blogging is not allowed! Probably.

In related news, the IT department has blocked Flash on my computer and this makes me inordinately upset.  I can finally wear headphones and listen to things but now anything worth listening to is blocked. Except NPR. Sweet, sweet NPR. It’s like nectar.

Anyway, my new job’s pretty awesome. I have business cards. I put a lot of numbers and codes into Filemaker Pro. That’s right. Pro. Because that’s what I am. A Pro. At data entry. And… finance? Just kidding. I’m not a pro at finance. But I can use a calculator for simple addition like a MOTHERFUCKER.

In other news:

1. I’m in college again. Nutty. I’m a grad student in the MFA playwriting program. I love it and I’m so busy I have to have a good cry every so often, but like I said, I love it. I’m writing and reading a lot and this is just what I’m supposed to be doing. Writing and reading and improving my brain. It had gotten a little mushy there for awhile.

2. Billy and I are making some small steps towards having a wedding. We have a place, the food is set, the guest list is (pretty much) set, my dress is set (duh, first thing I did), Billy’s facial hair has been decided upon, we have an invitation designer (Fourty) and a concept. The big things are done. Next step is getting an officiant. Which brings me to…

3. We’re going to church. Methodist. They’re cool with gays so Billy and I are into that, obvi. Billy told me he saw on the internet that there are churches in Texas that want to close down the church we go to. Because our church is too liberal. If that isn’t the mark of a church I want to be attending I don’t know what is. Also it is a way to form a connection with our community and for a little while every week it gives me an opportunity to think about how I can be a better person and make a meaningful difference in the world and that’s just a nice thing to do, you know? So we might ask one of the peeps from church to marry us. Somebody who’s okay with experimental facial hair and the possibility of The Smiths being incorporated into a wedding ceremony.

Hi all.

A few quick updates and more later on today.  (Yes I realize I often say “more on that later” and then never update, but really I have every intention of updating you later but I am also forgetful and selfish.  DEAL WITH IT.)

I am no longer a receptionist.  But somehow finance-and-financial-aid-advisor.wordpress.com doesn’t quite have the same ring.

Here’s my latest embroidery.  A little background: my bathroom is right off my kitchen.  So when we have people over sometimes I imagine they feel funny about going number 2.  Maybe they think people in the kitchen will hear them or smell the poop or whatever.  I just wanted to reassure everybody that it’s okay to poop in our bathroom even though the bathroom door is directly adjacent to the kitchen sink.  Everybody does it.  No biggie.

Katie Fay came over today and we made crafty hairpieces!  It was really fun and I made this thing that is very Kenley from Project Runway and I didn’t like her on the show but you have to admit she had great style.

The Thing Itself

I made it out of some feathers I bought at the craft store, a hair clip Katie got at the craft store, some ribbon that belonged to Katie, a vintage pin that also belonged to Katie, and some hot glue.

I really like the colors.

Also, you should know that this is the first thing like this that I’ve made so I’m sure it will fall apart the first time I wear it out of the house, but it was fun and cheap to make so I figure no harm done, right?

Also don’t be surprised when I wear this a lot in New York next week.  I always feel un-stylish in New York, so I tend to overdo it on the accessories.

I gave Billy a haircut last night.  It’s not the first time.  The first time I did it was oh, four months ago.  And he has refused to go to Supercuts between then and now so he needed it.  Bad.  He wanted to look like Crybaby:

I wanted him to look like Don Draper or at least a normal person.  He ended up looking a little like Hitler.  Minus the ’stache.Eh.  Not a bad look.  I mean.  Obviously he was bad.  Hitler.  Obviously.  But.  The bad part of him is not his side-part.  It’s all the killing of innocent people.  Also, the ’stache is odd.

In other, hopefully less offensive news, Billy and I are going to a fancy restaurant tonight with his parents for restaurant week in Boston.  It’s called Locke-Ober and there is a really strict dress code:

Dining Rooms: Business casual. No tennis shoes, hiking boots, athletic shoes, jeans, denim clothing, shorts or Tee shirts will be allowed in any of the common dining areas, without exception.

Without exception we are not allowed to wear Tee shirts.  Capital T motherfuckers!  They mean business.  So naturally I’m pumped.  I love dress-up.  That’s mostly why I wanted to be an actor.  I want to really overdo it tonight.  Like wear a gown.  And then be like “What?  You can’t handle the heat get out of the kitchen!”  And the heat will be my ball gown and the kitchen will be Locke-Ober and I’ll be saying that to a confused old lady and then I’ll probably get kicked out for yelling.

I’ll be sure to update you tomorrow.

Maybe I’ll curl my hair!!!!!  THIS IS GOING TO BE SO FUN YOU GUYS!!!!!

If you are a religious reader of this site you know that I am supremely competitive, especially after a few drinks.  Last night was no exception.  We went to a restaurant/bar in Canton (of all places) to celebrate our friend’s birthday (happy birthday, Scott) with trivia!  Trivia is so fun!  It’s challenging and funny and everybody has a great time AS LONG AS NOBODY CHEATS WITH THEIR FUCKING BLACKBERRIES.

The Internet.  It’s a double-edged sword.  On the one edge of the sword it is great and allows me to stay connected to people I care about and meet new people and read feminist blogs for free and write my own asinine blog and all that garbage.  That’s the good edge of the sword.  Then there’s the other edge.  It’s also sharp but in a bad way.  This side of the sword cuts you on your hip when you try to put it back in its holster or that’s what I assume the saying refers to.  The bad side of the sword means that nobody is honest in bar trivia anymore.  Nobody cares about nobility and challenging themselves and actually engaging in competition with strangers for a $25 gift card to a middling neighborhood restaurant.  They cheat with their fucking blackberries.  And when good, noble, concerned citizens like me go up to the girl who’s running the trivia to tell on those spineless fuck faces she says she will make an announcement reminding people not to cheat but then she never does because she is also a spineless fuck face.  WHATEVER.  The point is this:  I may have tried to fight some dudes.  Let me start at the beginning.

Billy and I drove down to Canton after work last night to meet Scott, Ashley, and Dana.  We got some delicious wings and a bunch of beers.  Everything’s going along great so far.  Soon Scott and I are going drink for drink.  At first it wasn’t on purpose but then we realized we were drinking faster than everybody so we should just go for it.  We had a shot.  Birthday shot!!!  Woo!!!  Let’s play some fucking trivia!  We start playing, we are basically kicking ass.  We get about halfway through the game and we feel pretty confident.  Everybody’s contributing, we know the answers, we’re feeling good.  Then the girl running the game announces the scores so far.  And what?  We are almost in last place!  How is this possible?!  I’ll tell you how it’s possible: EVERYBODY WAS CHEATING.  At one point Billy walked up to the front to hand in our answer and he leaned over the table next to us to look at somebody’s blackberry to confirm that they were, indeed, googling navel oranges and not just knowing the answer to the question about navel oranges.  Come on!  I’m typing really angrily right now just remembering this bullshit.  CLICK CLACK CLICK CLACK ANGRY TYPING ARRGGHH.

Anyway.  I decide, once it’s been confirmed, that I will complain to whoever is in charge.  I march up to the front of the bar and tell the girl running trivia that people! are! cheating!  This girl could not have been more apathetic.  I marched back to our table.  I decide to take matters into my own hands.  I notice a group of douchebags by the bar clearly googling the shit out of the next question.  I start giving them the death stare.  I do not take my eyes off this group of a-holes.  Eventually one of them sees me and starts staring back.  haHA!  I’ve got them now!  I start mouthing the words “are you cheating?” to him and then I start miming a person googling on a blackberry.  It was pretty clear to me.  Point.  “Are you cheating?”  Mad thumb google mime.  Obvious!  Then I give him the finger.  I decide to stop the death stare because I think he knows what he’s done.  Then I notice him telling his friends, pointing at me, and all of them laughing.  Fine.  That’s fine because I know you feel bad about what you’ve done deep down inside and I am justified.  Then he gets up.  And he starts walking over.  Oh.  That’s how you want to play it?  I turn death stare back on.  I don’t take my eyes off him.  He comes over to our table and says “Hey, what’s up?  You guys playing some trivia?”  We commence a conversation in which this jolly guy is totally pleasant to me and all of us and I, being thrown for a loop, continue with the bitch-tastic death stare and am really mean to him.  Eventually he wins over all the people I’m with including my freaking fiance (thanks for backing me up, Billy) and everybody wants to play softball together.  Great.  Now I have no wind in my sails and my hopes for starting a fist fight are all for naught.  And I am still riled up.  All this energy and nowhere to put it.  So we finish the game and totally lose and pay the bill and drive home and I can’t fall asleep until like 2AM because I’m a mess of unrequited trivia rage.

In conclusion, I should not go drink for drink with Scott Files and then play a competitive game of ANY KIND.

These are gorgeous.  They are whimsical and curious and make me happy.  Thanks Steph!

We’ve all done it.  It’s an internet phenomenon.

I’ve just decided I definitely have Borderline Personality Disorder.  And am probably going to die.  Obvsies.

The word “borderline” makes this sound like it’s not a disorder at all, but just short of a disorder.  In fact, it refers to being on the borderline of full-blown psychosis.  So one is not quite psychotic.  But almost.

I’m realizing this is really disrespectful of people who actually are diagnosed with Borderline Personality Disorder, but it’s for an effect, please don’t send me an angry email or sign up for wordpress specifically so you can start a blog about how bigoted and cruel I am like that lady that signed up for Yelp to tell me I was racist for not liking Colombian food.

Anyway, hear me out.  I do have a few of the symptoms.  Such as:

1.  “While a person with depression or bipolar disorder typically endures the same mood for weeks, a person with BPD may experience intense bouts of anger, depression, and anxiety that may last only hours, or at most a day.”

I have crazy mood swings!  One minute I’m fine, next minute I’m crying/yelling.  Thought it was PMS, but maybe I am almost psychotic?

2.  “Sometimes people with BPD view themselves as fundamentally bad, or unworthy.  They may feel unfairly misunderstood or mistreated, bored, empty, and have little idea who they are. Such symptoms are most acute when people with BPD feel isolated and lacking in social support, and may result in frantic efforts to avoid being alone.”

I feel bad about myself sometimes.  People are mean to me sometimes.  I get bored and lonely sometimes.  SOMEBODY GET ME TO A PSYCHIATRIC WARD.

3.  “Even with family members, individuals with BPD are highly sensitive to rejection, reacting with anger and distress to such mild separations as a vacation, a business trip, or a sudden change in plans.”

This one is the most worrying.  I actually really react badly to changes in plans.  I’m like a toddler in that way.  I’m a creature of routine.  Somebody get a straitjacket and some Lithium.

I joke because I am actually a little worried I have this disorder.

I don’t.  Right?

RIGHT?!

One good thing is that other symptoms of BPD are substance abuse, suicide attempts, cutting yourself, that kind of stuff.  Fortunately I don’t think I fall into those categories.  It’s probably more that I just have a lot of feelings.

Check this shit out.  I am crazy for embroidery.  Call me butter because I am on a roll.  I need more fabric.  Frankly I’m about two boring weeks away from opening an etsy store.

Last night Julie came through Boston on her way from New York to Maine for a long weekend holiday.  We had a lovely time eating breakfast for dinner at The Friendly Toast and drinking cheap beer at The Courtside.

An Ode To The Courtside

Oh Courtside Oh Courtside
I used to think you were a basketball bar
That focused on basketball games or something
But in fact you get your name from The Old Cambridge Municipal Court
Which lies beside you
In East Cambridge
You smell like bowling shoes and spilled beer
But Randall the bartender always gives us free pizza
And you have Big Buck Hunter
Which I suck at
But still
Oh Courtside Oh Courtside
You’re alright by me

Thank you.

In other news, the wedding planning is coming along quite nicely.  I have some anxiety about some things, mostly related to guest list.  We are trying and trying and trying to keep it small.  We can’t afford to rent a tent.  So we must keep it small.  But we love so many people!  But we must keep it small!  Oy.

The things that aren’t a problem are my dress (anymore), the cupcake plan, the flowers, the caterer.  For some reason I’m finding it is really easy to piss people off when planning my own wedding.  Why are other people pissed off?  Aren’t I supposed to be the pissed off one?  There are lots of people to please.  This only happens once!  This is once in a lifetime!  Maybe I should just have a wedding once a year so that people can’t say that anymore.  It’s just a day, folks.  Billy and I have the rest of our lives to please everybody else.

I’m excited, though.  And Billy’s letting me put him in a vest, which is fantastic.  I have such a boner for vests right now.  Delicious.  Also, the wedding party is all set.  It is made up of very supportive, lovely people who make me happy.  And also, since we had a rather crappy summer weather-wise, whenever I start to feel down about summer being almost over I feel better because that means we are that much closer to the wedding!  There is much to look forward to.  Including a tasting of food from the caterer early in September.  Wedding planning should be fun.  It’s so easy to let it be stressful.  But it is fun, in the end.